


Day One

by Copper_Viper



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_Viper/pseuds/Copper_Viper





	Day One

 

            Connor Murphy had gotten used to having dreams about dying, to the point where they had turned into something little more than constant fantasies.

            What he was used to was waking up, drenched in a cold sweat, shaking, _panicking_ , thinking he was in a hospital, for the fantasy had become a nightmare.

            It had been far too real – from being called a freak yet again by Kleinman, to losing it at Hansen because of a note, to finally being able to kill himself.

            _But it had felt so fucking real._

            He let himself look at the clock, to convince himself he was actually awake. 1:37 am. Looked away, looking back again. 1:38 am.

            So he was definitely awake.

            That much was good.

            He ran his hands up his arms, thinking back to whatever the hell had happened in the nightmare. He was fairly certain he had cut before he had overdosed, to get that last bit of pain before taking it all away, but there were no fresh cuts on his arms. There were no razors, or pill bottles, on his bedside table.

            _It wasn’t real._

            He kept telling himself that for an hour, but it was.

            He just had that feeling.

            There was no way it wasn’t.

            He had woken up. His father and Zoe had said something about being high. Getting into an argument with his mother about not going to school high. Going to school anyways. Getting called a school shooter by Kleinman. Pushing Hansen to the ground. Later in the day, trying to make an attempt at being nice to Hansen before losing it over a note that mentioned Zoe. Going home and deciding that would be the night he would die.

            Following through with it.

            And waking up.

            Not in a hospital.

            But in his house.

            _Alive_.

            He looked at the clock again. 2:40 am.

            In less than four hours he would have to wake up for school.

            He allowed himself to fall back into a fitful sleep.

            There were no dreams, or nightmares this time. Only inky darkness.

 

 

            6:00 am. An alarm going off. A weakening August sun coming in through the window.

            First day of senior year.

            So thrilling.

            He threw on a shirt that didn’t smell as bad as the rest. Dragged himself downstairs. Poured a bowl of cereal.  Used the last of the milk.

            Zoe sat down across from him. Said nothing.

            His dad sat to his left. Like Zoe, said nothing.

            A stony silence, as per usual.

            It reminded him faintly of the nightmare, but he had pushed that to the side.

            He was fairly certain he looked out of it. Could a person look out of it from waking up from a nightmare and panicking? It’s not like he paid attention whenever anything related to mental health had been talked about anywhere.

            Not like he was the best of example of perfect mental health. So why bother paying attention? Not like he was ever going to get better.

            His mother walked up behind him. “I don’t want you missing the first day of school, Connor.”    

            Right. He had declared yesterday he wouldn’t be going. He’d go the second day.

            His dad mumbled something about him not listening, something about being high. Zoe backed his dad up on that.

            Connor’s eyes flew open, and he pushed himself out of the chair, backing up against the wall. His breathing had picked up.

            _That’s exactly how the nightmare had gone._

            Zoe smirked at their dad. “See? Definitely high. Never seen him freak out while high before, though.”

            Casually talking. As though this sort of thing had happened every day.

            His mom walked over to him, keeping a short distance away. “Connor? Are you okay?”

            He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

            Took his seat again. Put his head down.        

            Zoe complained about there being no milk.

            She had done that in the nightmare.

            But the talking leading up to that had been slightly different.

            Maybe it was just a really fucked up dream after all.

            And not something like, prophetic. That would have been too much.

 

* * *

 

 

            Walking into school. Everything seeming relatively normal.

            Kleinman, standing down by a locker, Hansen next to him.

            “Connor, love the new haircut, very school-shooter chic.”

            Hansen tried to hide a smirk and Kleinman continued. Connor ignored it. Pushed past the two. Accidentally knocking Evan down in the process.

            Going to the little-used corridor. Staying in one of the empty classrooms. Letting the hours tick by. Ignoring bells. Panicking each time there were footsteps, breathing with relief each time the footsteps continued, not going into the room.

            The final bell.

            Allowing himself to go to the computer lab.

            Waiting around for Zoe to take him home.

            Since he had gotten his license revoked sometime over the summer. Because he had been found speeding, and with weed on him. That had been fun.

            Hansen was in the computer lab. Printing something out. The printer behind Connor was whirring. Hansen didn’t seem to notice he was there.

            He took the sheet from the printer. Looked it over.

            _Dear Evan Hansen._

            Nearly panicked.

            The exact same letter that had been in the nightmare.

            He shoved it Hansen’s hands, ignoring what Hansen was saying.

            Zoe walked by, and he rushed out of there, acting, as Zoe put it, “Incredibly un-Connor like, what new drug have you tried this time?”

            He ignored her. He was tense the entire ride home.

            Nothing was making sense. Was it some sort of elaborate joke, which everyone but him was in on? It was possible. But for everyone to be in on it would be impossible. It would have required too much planning. And he was certain that his parents wouldn’t have gone along with it.

            Vanishing to his room as soon as he got home. Closing the door.

            Shaking, in bed, for hours.

            Maybe he was on drugs currently and he didn’t know it.

            There was no way that most of the events that had happened that day had happened in his nightmare.

            There was no feasible way to make sense of any of it.

            By the time 11 pm had rolled around, he was still on edge.

            Went to the bathroom. Fished around the medicine cabinet. Took a bottle of pills. Swallowed them all within a few minutes.

 

* * *

 

            1:37 am was what was on the clock.

            He had woken up.


End file.
